Letters from the Republic

I write as the latest “Storm of the Century” subsides in the US. For the past weekend my social media feed has been completely whitened with pictures of snowdrifts all across the country, as my friends and relatives watch the blizzard pass from warm homes under cozy blankets. Texas freaked out as usual, but them’s the breaks with an independent power grid.

It occurs to me that now might be the time to reflect on my winter in Kyiv during the energy crisis.

To catch up, Ukraine has been hit with waves of Russian attacks designed to knock out the energy grid and deprive civilians of utilities during its coldest winter since 2013. As temperatures in Kyiv dropped to below 0° Fahrenheit, drones, missiles, and cyberattacks deprived us of heat, water, and electricity. Zelenskyy has declared a state of emergency in Ukraine’s energy sector, and even Kyiv’s mayor Vitali Klitschko has urged his constituents to temporarily leave the city if they are able.*

Most can’t, obviously, and so life continues in a damn grim fashion. Without heat, the temperature in my own apartment drops to about 40 degrees and I have trouble leaving my bed under the strata of 3 duvets and 3 blankets. Reading and even typing gets difficult, to explain my long absence from these missives. Fingers are cold, you see. Poor guy from Brooklyn’s a-cold. A space heater will eat up a fully charged auxiliary battery in about an hour and a half, whereas that will normally power lights, devices, and a kettle for a dark evening; as such, most of us simply will not get any sense of warmth from our homes.

There are those who will rightfully point out that I chose to be here and shouldn’t complain, but the realities of life in these times need to be communicated. Ukrainians as ever put up a brave face. The holiday market in Podil glitters and buzzes and the cacophonous chorus of Christmas music continues into January to account for the Orthodox celebration. Much attention is given to Mykola Leontovych’s “Carol of the Bells” for its Ukrainian origin, not to mention its solemn melody.** Ice skaters dance on ponds, rinks, and iced over streets and one can watch children playing with their families on the completely frozen Dnieper.

There is still no hiding the draining and disheartening nature of this winter; there is simply no getting used to this. These attacks on civilian infrastructure are quite clearly and irrefutably war crimes, yet the international community has taken no action but to offer vague condemnation. Europe deepens its crisis of weakness and irrelevance, and Americans are rightfully focused these days on the horrific murders of two innocent civilians in Minnesota as the President tests just how much he can abuse the plebeians with impunity. As the United States is forced to reckon with a breach of the public trust, perhaps those back home can spare a thought for the thousands upon thousands of people who give their lives in Ukraine and Iran in defiance of murderous authoritarianism.

To be clear, there can be no surrender. We have seen what happens to Ukrainians forced to live in Russian occupation, and their experience alone gives everyone a reason to keep fighting. The Russian army, demoralized and disorganized, takes its frustrations out on civilian populations with alarming regularity. As drone warfare stretches the front line wider and wider, evacuations get more and more dangerous. Relief workers are forced to watch as drones kill helpless civilians, and the reports of torture and abuse of tens of thousands of abducted Ukrainian children are inalienable from the continued cause for resistance. The Trump administration’s entertainment of bad-faith “peace” proposals from the aggressor in this conflict do nothing to help morale and only serve as caustic reminders of the absolute omnishambles furthered by our government.

It’s a lot, and it can be overwhelming. It is still absolutely imperative to keep track. If you want to help but you’re not sure how to, feel free to reach out.

*It’s worth bearing in mind that Klitschko used to exchange cranial trauma for a living.

**The effect is totally drained after about the 7th Instagram story on the same day featuring a choir performance at a strike site, followed by maybe 15 renditions heard on a single walk outside. At least it’s a break from Mariah Carey.